Creative Writing The bringing

Discussion in 'Written Arts' started by Chance, Mar 10, 2006.

  1. Chance

    Chance Admitted Pokemon Fan.

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    Standing shakily, I felt myself strike Robert. No thoughts needed, just action. He staggered backwards, nearly losing his balance. "Don't say a word of Michael you worthless fiend! You are nothing more then dirt on his boots. I will take what punishment he sees fit, not what you decide to deliver. If you choose to pick a fight, who am I to deny you." A smile formed across my tearing face, taunting this man. I wasn't about to take his comments lightly.

    He let out a low growl in his throat, and seemed to vanish. Reappearing in front of me, his fist swung at my stomach. I side stepped it, my hands grabbing his hair and swinging his face into the corner of my nightstand. "Screw you Robert, you're pathetic."

    He cried out as flesh hit wood, a bone crunching sound fliing my room. I let him go, stepping back. I watched him writhe weakly, the pain evident in his by his subtle whimpers. My own body felt like it was on fire, my thoughts on just how much I suddenly hated him. How his pain was infact his own fault, not mine.

    "Being his favorite will not save you.." Robert replied from the ground, turning his ravaged face towards me. All I could see was blood, the crimson liquid dripping heavily onto my carpeting. "You're going down, you self righteous *****!" He spit, covering my pants in his vitae.

    My foot moved up to meet his mouth, knocking him back into my bed. He hit it, and slumped against it, beaten. "Watch your tongue.. Do you not respect my status?" Now this was a question of athority. Should he say no, I could drag him to the Primogen and watch his body be staked and stored in the basement of Elysium for 10 years. He wouldn't die, just go slowly insane out of need for blood and loneliness.

    "No..No Chance. I do not question your status. I question your morals, and your intelligence."

    I cracked my neck as I tilted my head to the side then shrugged. "Fine by me." With that, I grabbed the back of his neck and dragged him along my floor to the window. Opening it, I whistled, and hefted his limp body onto the edge. "Goodbye Robert. Send the sire my love.." And with that, I pushed him out the the open window and down to the street below. He landed with a soft thump, his body giving a small twitch.

    "I hate you Chance!" He screamed as he stood shakily, obviously forced to burn blood to heal. "I hope you and the other McNeil's all burn!"

    "Oh, you don't mean that Robert!" I shouted back, leaning on the window sill. "Chance McNeil, The crusher of the Brujah scourge, and defyer of the stupid! I am all yours next time you'd like to declare a rant!" And with that, I shut the window, and lowered the heavy curtains, hopping into bed.

    "Good times.." I mumbled quietly, my eyes shutting as I fell into the immortal sleep I so deserved. Trouble would come, but not tonight.
     
    #21
  2. Lance Leingod

    Lance Leingod The White Blade

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    I thought it was very good. I'm rather interested in who this Michael is that Chance seems to have some respect for. And I wondered what happens next :D
     
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